Don't Trip
by JustAGryffindork
Summary: Annie Cresta's games, and her life afterwards. Previously titled: 'If That's What It Is'
1. Chapter 1

**Right folks, this idea may be overdone, but I really couldn't care less. *le raves***

**Disclaimer: I quite obviously don't own the Hunger Games. None of these characters are mine, except the ones that you don't recognise; they're most likely mine. I'm not making any profit from this, except the joy of reviews (hopefully!)**

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><p>As if I didn't have enough to worry about, I was yet again reminded that it was Reaping day. Even though I was well aware that the likelihood of being chosen to represent the district in the sick form of entertainment known as the Hunger Games was one in a million, something just wouldn't let my mind ease. As far as I was concerned, anything that can go wrong will go wrong - according to Murphy's Law at least; rather cynical, I know.<p>

Being from District 4, I hadn't had a particularly difficult life, so far at least. My father had wanted me to train as a career when I was younger, but my mother had none of it; something to do with wasting my childhood or to that effect. But really, who were they kidding? No teenager in Panem has a half-decent childhood for fear of being put in some arena and slaughtered, but that's the way it would always be and it was best to accept it and just put one foot in front of the other.

As I silently walked along with the crowd in the direction of the large make-shift stage that had been set up for the Reaping, I met a few of my so called 'friends'. Sure, I knew plenty of people but I wasn't one for trusting others. They were the kind of people who would complain about other people for complaining; a little hypocritical, but at least there was never a dull moment. Quite a bit of banter ensued, mostly to do with the girls wearing dresses that only came out of the wardrobe once a year, for this very occasion.

When we had all been separated by sexes and ages, there was a overly loud murmur from the ever-growing crowd of teenagers. When that Capitol escort appeared on the rather disappointing looking stage, it was I could to restrain a laugh. Though I knew that this oddly dressed person would be choosing who was condemned, it did indeed provide some comic relief from all the tension. Past victors were also lined up on the make-shift stage, some looking smug, and others looking painfully awkward. I couldn't help but stare at the female population of Panem's favorite, Finnick Odair. As much I attempted to deny it, that man really did have lovely arms. I suppose his face wasn't bad either. Or his legs. All in all, he was undeniably good-looking, but I refused to become one of those moronic girls who constantly throw themselves at him. I knew I was better than that.

I knew they would be choosing the girls name first, as they did every year; like it really made much of a difference. As the name was called, I held my breath, mentally praying that it wouldn't be my name. That's when I realized that there probably wasn't much use in praying, as I heard my name read aloud. Almost all of the eyes that I could see were staring directly at me; some with an undertone of pity, and others with an look of relief. What's the use of praying if there's nobody who hears? I slowly and unsteadily made my way to the platform, praying that I would keep my balance. But hey, if I was to lose my footing, it would make quite a light hearted Reaping, right? Luckily, I managed to make a reasonably acceptable ascent onto the platform. Afterwards, there was an opportunity for volunteering. As I expected, no one bothered which was fair enough, I suppose. I certainly wouldn't volunteer for anyone, as selfish as it may sound.

Merely seconds later, the boy's name was drawn. Gavroche McMillan. Safe to say, I didn't know him personally but something about his face looked familiar. What saddened me most about it, was that he didn't look much older than 12 years old; maybe 14 at the oldest. The poor thing looked close to tears, not that I - or anyone else, for that matter - could blame him. To no-one's surprise, they're weren't any volunteers on his behalf either. After we shook hands, we were led into separate rooms in the largest building in town, to say our goodbyes to friends, realities and anyone who would listen.

My parents were the first in. The babbled on about how I had to believe in myself, which eventually evolved into an argument between my mum and dad about how they should have trained me after all. In that moment I knew that whether I had been trained or not, I would never be prepared to take the life of another person. Wasn't it supposed to be God who decided who was to live and who was to die? Obviously not, since he hadn't been much help at the Reaping, in my case at least. It then struck me that maybe I was supposed to die in the games, in some sort of blaze of glory for people to remember me by. Either way, I much preferred the idea of dying in my sleep or something, but considering the circumstances, that wasn't even an option anymore.

A few of my friends later filed into the room, some crying and others simply looking rather morbid. The boys kept it simple by patting my back and telling me to try my best, whereas the girls were in a worse state than I was; crying and all sorts, until one mentioned that the upside was meeting Finnick Odair, after which that began gossiping about how lucky I was. Yes, lucky. They really didn't have a clue, did they?

Afterwards, myself, my district partner, our Capitol escort and our two mentors, Mags and Finnick, were led to the train station. As we walked, I promised myself that I wouldn't look back, in the knowledge that if I did, I'd end up a crying mess. The thought of not seeing District 4 again was utterly heartbreaking. Despite my efforts, one lone tear slid down my cheek, though I continued to hold my head high. A moment later, I felt a hand wipe the tear away in a rush. I turned my head slightly to see Finnick Odair looking at me with his eyebrows raised.

"Don't want them to see you crying now, do you?" He asked, though I assumed his question was rhetorical. "We wouldn't want you to seem weaker than you undeniably are." Finnick continued in a voice so quiet that his words were almost inaudible. I really didn't know how to respond to such a comment, unsure as to whether he was purposely insulting me or not. I simply forced a slight smile, before turning to face ahead of myself once again.

Once inside the train, I continued to face the direction in which I walked, refusing to give into the temptation to look out of the window. Sad the think I wouldn't be coming back, but if that's what it is, nothing would change it.

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><p><strong>Love it? Hate it? Review! I've got this weird love for constructive criticism, so go right ahead. Also, a telepathic high-5 goes to anyone who got the 'Les Miserables' reference in there.<strong>

**You see that button down there that mentions a review? ITS CLICKABLE!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh yes, I'm uploading two chapters in one day. Booya! Yes, booya. I'll try to update as much as possible for the next two weeks, because my exams start after the Easter holidays, so updates won't be as frequent then.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Hunger Games, I wouldn't be stressing about my English exam and I'd be rich. I'm not rich, nor am I prepared for exams; therefore, I don't own any of this. Ok? Ok.**

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><p>As much as I hated to admit it, the train was well and truly breathtaking. District 4 could never live up to such luxury. I could hardly imagine what the Capitol would be like, if even just the train was such a memorizing sight. My thoughts were only interrupted by the quiet voice of my district partner, Gavroche.<p>

"Are you ask scared as I am?" He asked as his voice cracking slightly, which caused his face to turn bright red in embarrassment.

I stifled a laugh, bowing my head. Just as I was beginning to forget about my eventual - and no doubt, painful - death, he had to go and remind me again. Something stopped me from being angry at him though. Maybe it was the fact that he was tiny. Maybe it was because he was quite obviously still an awkward, scrawny child. Maybe it was because he was just beginning to grow up.

"Definitely." I replied, nodding my head once in confirmation.

"Don't count yourselves out just yet." Mags interjected quickly, pointing her finger.

I hadn't been alive when Mags had one her games - hell, my parents weren't alive then either - but I was smart enough to know that she was certainly a wise old woman. Despite her words of encouragement, I couldn't help but feel slightly ill at the though of being torn to pieces in the arena. Over-thinking had always been a horrible trait of mine. Fair enough, it gave me something to do, but it still got me nowhere.

Mags then mentioned that she would be mentoring Gavroche, and I would be mentored my Finnick. A part of me was couldn't be more thankful for such an opportunity, but another made me feel worse at the thought of having to trust Finnick Odair. Sure, he was nice to look at, but from what I had heard, he had the personality of a wooden spoon. And as far as I was concerned, taking to another female was much easier than discussing anything with a male; as I had a tendency to become very awkward around guys who were even relatively attractive.

Chat between the two of us was difficult, for me at least. He would babble on and on for God knows how long, whereas I would simply nod in agreement to pretty much everything.

"So what exactly are you good at?" He asked, I mentally kicked myself as I then knew that I would have to give some sort of logical answer.

"Well, I can swim and I'm good with nets, but other than that I'm pretty much useless." I replied, cringing at how pathetic I must have sounded.

Finnick nodded silently, seemingly taking a moment to think - probably about how utterly terrible my chances must be.

"We can work with that." Finnick responded, shrugging his shoulders carelessly.

For some reason, his careless attitude really irked me to no limit. I really couldn't tell if he was genuinely a useless mentor, or if he just liked people to think he was like that. I couldn't be sure, but I knew that if I even wanted a chance at surviving the godforsaken games, I would have to believe that he could help me, whether he actually could or not.

"Easy for you to say. You walk around the place like you're Big Chief Walla Walla, and then rest of us are left to constantly worry." I responded emphatically with a desperate look on my face, regretting my words almost as soon as I had spoken them. All I got in response from Finnick was a hearty chuckle followed by that famous smirk.

"Big Chief Walla Walla?" He repeated with a questioning tone in his voice, as if asking for an explanation that I clearly didn't have.

"Yes, Big Chief Walla Walla. You think you're the big man around here. Rightfully so, I suppose." I responded, laughing slightly as I spoke.

"In more ways than one." He added, winking at me. As arrogant as he seemed, there was something attractive about him that I couldn't quite understand. Before I realized it, I was blushing as bright red as a beetroot; the one thing I had hoped wouldn't happen.

The conversation continued with everything from the Reaping to the games, and somehow we ended up discussing Seneca Crane's beard as well. As much as I liked talking to him, I knew that in a couple of days this would all be over and I'd have to train in for the games, though I knew I probably wouldn't even last a day in the arena. Well, maybe a couple of days, if luck was on my side.

"I'm up the creek without a paddle when it comes to the games, aren't I?" I asked after a short moment of silence, holding my head in my hands before moving my head to look at him.

"If that's your outlook, then probably. Try being more positive. It'll work wonders. Sponsors like tributes who know what they're doing." He answered, his tone turning understandably more serious than it previously had been. "And try not to cry while I'm around. I may seem like a real ladies man, but I don't know how to cope with a upset girl…" Finnick continued, almost automatically returning to the version of him I was used to seeing. "…even the most beautiful faces can be ruined by tears." he added, brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

I nodded in response, not saying a word before standing up and beginning to make my way to my designated room for the time being. Finnick stood up at the exact same time and attempted to hug me, though it just became rather awkward, which made us both laugh for a moment or two.

Once in my room, I looked all around it, simply mesmerized by the technology. I sat on the edge of my bed, taking a moment to think about the days events. I, Annie Cresta, had been reaped against the odds and I was on my way to my imminent death. Though the one thing that stuck in my mind was the conversation with Finnick; how it was the one thing that seemed normal enough. How he had implied that I was beautiful.

How we had hugged, never-mind the ungainly and ungraceful feeling of it.

Oh, if my friends could see me now.

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><p><strong>Thanks to the folks who reviewed as well!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Third chapter! Yay.**

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><p>I woke up the following day with great confusion that regarded my surrounds, though within a moment or two I remembered everything. I'd been chosen at the reaping, and now I was on my way to the Capitol. As much as I complained about my life in District 4, I knew that not waking up to the faint sound of waves crashing to the shore, or seeing my parents every morning would definitely put a downer on my day. Just then, it occurred to me that I most likely wouldn't get the chance to do any of that again; after all, that's what I expected in the first place.<p>

As an unusual feeling anger came upon me, which I could only try in vain to get rid of. Why were people who didn't have anything to do with the rebellion all those years ago forced to pay for the mistakes of others? That was a question that I knew I would never be able to answer, no matter how hard I tried. I was well aware that it was best to just put one foot in front of the other and forget it.

I dressed myself in the clothes that had been laid out before my arrival. Though I couldn't stand the thought of accepting anything from the Capitol, I did have to admit that it was much nicer than anything I had ever worn in my district. What was to be expected though? The Capitol got what they wanted, obviously.

I sauntered aimlessly to where I was informed that we would get breakfast. Something that I supposed I was looking forward to was seeing the food. Surely, it would be something that only the rich folk could afford. Quite the change of scene from what I was used to.

When I got there, I immediately noticed that Finnick and Gavroche had beaten me to it. As far as I was aware, Finnick was doing the talking while Gavroche stuffed his face with god-knows-what. I sat down next to my district partner, and helped myself though I tried to seem more classy than Gavroche did. I suppose I couldn't exactly blame him, Capitol food was certainly a real dream for someone from District 4, where we all usually survive off of fish and bread. The meaningless conversation started, and I tried to seem interested but I had always had a habit of letting my mind wander.

Not too long later, Mags shuffled her was towards us and took her seat next to Finnick. She joined in the half-hearted banter of the conversation, before asking if we intended to stick together in the arena or to go separate ways. Hearing her question, I looked over at Gavroche with raised eyebrows as if to ask him his opinion and he grinned childishly in response, his mouth still full of food. Our seemingly telepathic conversation, initiated with simply facial expressions let us decided that it was best to stick together for as long as possible. Two head would always be better than one.

"You're going to make yourself sick." Mags warned Gavroche, laughing slightly as her statement came to an end.

"Nah, I think I'll be alright" He replied, though it sounded more like one long and barely understandable word, which caused all four of us to laugh. It was as if he had forgotten that this luxury would only last a while; how I wished I could be as naïve as he was…or maybe he really was making the right decision by taking what he could get while he could, but that was only a theory.

After Mags managed to tear Gavroche away from his seemingly never ending plate of food to discuss his interview tactics and so fourth, Finnick and I were left alone again.

"So, that Capitol isn't far off now. What kind of nature are we going for here?" He asked, looking directly at me as if searching for answer that I quite clearly didn't have.

"You tell me." I replied, shrugging my shoulders emphatically.

He snapped his fingers quickly and nodded his head, seemingly in approval.

"Exactly like that. Don't give to much away. Just let them wonder what's going on inside your head. It'll drive the Capitol nuts. Trust me."

"Are you sure? I'm really awkward around people." I responded, raising my right eyebrow marginally higher than my left.

Finnick laughed slightly, nodding his head in agreement. Why did he find everything so funny? Maybe he did have a right to laugh, but it really wasn't the best time. "I know. You looked like you were ready for tripping at the Reaping." he replied, which caused me to cringe outwardly.

Before I could think of a somewhat witty remark, I noticed an unmistakable sight through the window of the train. The Capitol. Finnick grabbed my hand and stood up, pulling me along behind him to get a closer look out of the window. It looked even more astounding than anything I could possible imagine. As mesmerizing as it was, it was certainly no District 4; the only place I wanted to be in that very moment.

Gavroche then came bolting in and stood beside us, his eyes widening with childish glee. I couldn't help but smile as he pressed his face against the window, looking out as far as the eye could see. It took me a moment to notice that Finnick still had a tight grip of my hand, which I assumed he had no intention of letting go of. I realized that Gavroche had noticed too, since he looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows in a child-like fashion. As the train came to a halt, I held my breathe before I felt Finnick's grip on my hand release. Despite how much I lied to myself that I was glad he had let go, a part of me knew that I would have happily held onto his hand for a good while longer, given the opportunity. Myself, Mags, Finnick and Gavroche stood outside the train doors which I knew would be opening any minute, mentally preparing ourselves to go out into the overwhelmingly large crowd of Capitol citizens. I exhaled loudly, as if it would help relieve my nerves.

"Hey Cresta…" Finnick began, waiting for me to look at him before he concluded his sentence. "…Don't trip."

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><p><strong>It took my forever to write that.<strong>

**Didn't get any reviews for the last chapter, which was disappointing, so if you could take just a wee minute of your day to leave a review, I'd appreciate it. It only takes a minute and it makes a writers day. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to the folks who added this to their story alerts...still not many reviews though. *le derp***

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><p>Luckily enough - for me, at least - the seemingly never-ending crowd of oddly dressed people seemed more excited by Finnick's arrival than the rest of us, which was a great relief in many ways. Everyone knew that Finnick was popular with the female population of Panem, but I never would have guessed how crazed the Capitol citizens went upon his arrival. I kept my head down as the crowd buzzed around us. As far as I was aware, myself and Gavroche would be taken to meet our prep teams and stylists.<p>

Once I had met and briefly spoken with my prep team, the began their work. The experience really put me on edge, though I was aware that it was considered an essential part of preparing for the so called 'Tribute Parade', in which tributes would be dressed in outfits that represented their district; I figured we'd be fish as usual, no doubt. My prep team spent most of their time complaining about the state of my hair, and how they 'couldn't possibly imagine how district people could cope with their natural hair colours'. Safe to say, they weren't impressed, but then again, neither was I.

Fortunately, my stylist was much more understanding. He babbled on for quite some time before he decided to show me what I would be wearing for the Tribute Parade. Originally, I had been dreading this moment; no doubt it would make me look like an absolute fool. Despite my previous beliefs, I had to admit that it wasn't as bad as I had expected, though it certainly did worry me slightly. It was a dress made entirely made of thick, overlapping layers of net, that managed to cover me in the places that it was essential in a toga-like fashion. I could hardly even imagine what my mother's reaction would be when she saw it. As I was her only child, for years on end she had practically wrapped me in cotton wool to keep me from the horrors of the world, which was ultimately in vain since I was expected to kill others in nearly no time at all. Yes, my mother's reaction would definitely be quite a entertaining sight.

My make up was rather simple; it consisted of exaggerated blue eye-shadow that was hilariously impossible to miss and light blusher. It could've been worse. I could've ended up as a fish, which would definitely have been rock bottom.

A good few minutes before the Tribute Parade was due to start, my stylist and I met with my district partner and our mentors. Gavroche was dressed in a similar fashion, which I'm pretty sure was compulsory anyway.

"Well, don't you look cute." I said to Gavroche, nudging him with my elbow jokingly.

"I'd keep my eye on this one, Gav. Seems like Annie's about to go all cougar." Finnick mock-warned him at my expense, which earned him a slap on the back of the head from Mags.

Before I could respond, all tributes were told to take to their chariots. As our stylists made some quick fixes, my mind began freaking out. The voice in the back on my head made everything much worse, by convincing me that the worst would occur. I decided to blame this on my belief in Murphy's Law, like I did most of the time when things had potential flaws - 'Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.' I vaguely remembered thinking about that at the Reaping, and supposed that it was indeed true. All I could do was plaster on a completely fake smile, and hope for the best.

"Don't trip." Finnick said quickly, half a second the chariots started moving.

The crowd seemed overly excited, considering the fact that they knew as well as I did that in only a matter of weeks all but one of us would be dead. That was their entertainment. Watching people die indescribably painful deaths, when most animals weren't even treated in such a manner. I really did wonder what went on in their heads. Did they realise how badly everyone wanted to win? Were they aware how hopeless most of us were? Didn't they understand how so many children would never get to grow up because of this? Completely absurd.

President Snow's speech seemed to drag on for ages, though I was ninety-nine percent sure that he used relatively the same speech every year. He mentioned the rebellion, and why we were all here - a story I had heard one too many times - and still had the nerve to welcome us. Welcome us to what? Our death? It was almost enraging that he could say such a thing; not that any of the rest of us had a say in the matter.

After the President had finally concluded dragging speech, we were wheeled into a room where all the tribute's stylists and mentors were standing in groups for a moment or two before we were taken to where we would be residing for our short time in the Capitol.

"See, that wasn't too terrible, was it?" Mags asked, though her question was obviously rhetorical.

The apartment was certainly a sight to behold; more original than anything I'd ever seen. Gavroche was the first to claim his room, which he informed us of by shouting that he claimed the best one; I suppose the joke was on him though, since they were all the same. I took a moment to look around the room I had been designated. I could hardly believe what was before my eyes. Even people who lived on the richer side of District 4 didn't have rooms like this. My thoughts were only interrupted by Finnick - again.

"You clean up well, Cresta." He stated, leaning against the doorframe.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Odair." I replied, nodding my head in his direction.

"I'm serious." Finnick responded, moving slightly too close to me. I assumed that he could tell by my body language that his standing so close to me made me feel undeniably uncomfortable, in association with which he continued with:

"What? Do I make you nervous?" He spoke in his usual seductive tone, that really didn't help my plan to keep myself from being attracted to him.

Mags made a perfectly timed interruption, by shouting that if we wanted anything to eat, we'd better hurry up. With that Finnick winked at me before turning to walk our of the door and towards where Gavroche and Mags were already sitting, and I followed closely behind. As we sat down, Gavroche - who had already began shoveling the food into his mouth - wiggled his eyebrows childishly again, which I found more entertaining than any normal person would have.

"Mags, was it just me, or did you see Annie and Finnick holding hands on the train as well?" Gavroche questioned, though it was obviously just to see my reaction.

I could have killed him then and there. Luckily, Mags took it light heartedly and chuckled quietly when it was mentioned, before responding with:

"Holding hands? My goodness, I hope they used protection." A joke which made all of us quite literally laugh out loud. Gavroche seemed to find it the funniest since he was definitely the least mature, understandably of course since he was only 13.

"Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have some Capitol related business to attend to." Finnick concluded, standing up and beginning to leave the room. None of us vocally questioned it, but mentally I couldn't quite figure it out. What was he selling? Girl scout cookies? I wouldn't bother asking, as with some of the prices the victors had to pay, I knew I was probably better off not knowing.

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><p><strong>I'm not too sure if I like this chapter or not. I would quite like to know your thoughts of it, like whether it's worthwhile continuing, ways to improve and whatnot. Any chance of a wee review? :)<strong>


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